


A bride should be

by 107Mitochondria



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Let The Leijons Live, Men Are Gross Just Let Them Be Gay, Nep Is 2Smol, Other, child bride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 19:06:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/107Mitochondria/pseuds/107Mitochondria
Summary: Nepeta's parents discover that she has a crush, and decide to sell her hand in marriage to a wealthy man before she can get any ideas.





	A bride should be

Nepeta was only fourteen when she was dragged out of school, begging and crying. She'd slipped up, and now she would have to pay for it in the way almost every girl in her country did eventually. Her fate was grim, and set in stone. 

It wasn't her fault, really. She was a teenage girl, she wanted to gossip and giggle about cute boys with her friends. Her best friend Feferi was *always* talking about this boy or that, and it was fine. Of course, Feferi's parents were a foreign couple who planned on giving her their business when she was old enough, so she didn't need to get married at all if she didn't want to. For Nepeta, boys were a very different ball park. Her more traditional family had plans for her to marry wealthy, and she would never be allowed to waste time on something like work or college, let alone some poor boy from school. 

She should've expected that they would find out about her crush, soon enough. She was lucky enough to have her own cell phone, but everything she texted or emailed or posted online was heavily monitored. The seemingly harmless text, "I dunno, I think Karkitty's pretty cute!" had singlehandedly uprooted her whole life. 

Now she stood in front of a boutique mirror that was far taller than her, surrounded by hawk-like women who were also uncomfortably tall. They stared at her with sharp smiles and scrutinizing eyes as she did a slow turn in a gaudy red piece. Light bounced off of millions of red and gold sequins, hurting her eyes in the already harsh lighting. She was covered in heavy makeup, thick black liner and bright pops of color. She never wore makeup at school, and the person she saw in the mirror looked nothing like herself. 

"I think she needs something more... sweet, innocent," purred another sharp-eyed woman from behind her. "She is so young, I want to play it up. The rich old ones tend to like that sense of naïveté." She would have liked to sneer at her mother's detached language, but a creeping tear made its way onto her face first. 

"Oh, Christ, Nepeta, this mascara isn't waterproof. Don't be such a baby." It was a sentiment she heard a lot lately- suck it up, every girl gets married someday. Stop whining and do your best to seem like you're worth a lot, so your parents won't have to worry about money anymore.

Nepeta's only solace was that her older sister was enduring the same thing. At night, in the relative privacy of their shared bedroom, they would cry about the futures they could have had. Meulin had the worst of it, too. She was 19, she was about to go off to college because their parents wanted her to marry an educated man, and then they found her sneaking around with a boyfriend. Now the older girl wasn't even allowed to leave the house without their mother and a couple of aunts to watch her. 

After a couple hours of browsing through gaudy gowns, and with the assistance of many shrewd aunts and older cousins, her mother picked out a ruffled pale green monster that was practically dripping rhinestones. With no straps and a skirt that fell above her knee, Nepeta felt mortified and exposed. Her father grimaced at the price, but said nothing as he paid for it. Just like Nepeta, Mrs. Leijon had been sold off to a wealthy husband as a young girl, so expenses like clothing were her "reward" for being an obedient wife. 

After they left the dress shop, they were off to find shoes, and then it would be jewelry. In the few weeks leading up to the market, Nepeta would be constantly primped and groomed, pictures posted of her online to grab the interest of potential suitors. Her mother made her diet for the first time in her life, and she had to stop hiking because a cousin told her "men don't like girls with more muscles than them, it's unnatural."

At first, Meulin would always come shopping, and she would get dressed up and take pictures right along with Nepeta. She did a great job of pretending to go along with it- Meulin had always loved making herself look pretty and showing off a bit, so she might have actually been having a fun time while they were out shopping and putting together gaudy outfits. 

Then she tried to run away. She was caught fairly quickly, and a local police officer dragged her home sobbing her eyes out. After that, she stayed in their parents' room, and Nepeta didn't see her anymore. 

The day of the Bride Market arrived, and Nepeta was decked out in her finest, most ridiculously flashy dress. Her mother strapped her into some ridiculously tall heels too, so her short stature wouldn't make her look quite so childlike. "These men want wives, not daughters. Be innocent and sweet, but act like a lady, not a girl."

Meulin did not come with them. Bidding for her hand was apparently being carried out online, for reasons nobody would talk about. When Nep innocently asked if her sister could come with them anyway, just to keep her company, one of her aunts scoffed sharply. "A shameful creature like that following us around would lower your value, dear." She didn't understand, but she at least knew that begging would get her nowhere, so she let it be. Meulin was tough, she would probably be okay, right?

Her father helped her out of the car, and then left her in her mother's care while he went off to cavort with other fathers in attendance. For a couple hours, Nepeta was actually allowed to enjoy herself a little, mingling with friends from school that she hadn't seen in weeks. Some of them were even excited to be here, gossiping dreamily about who had made what offer to their parents and how nice it would be to marry some rich handsome prince or some such. Of course, her mother would occasionally step in and introduce her to some older gentleman, who would look her over uncomfortably and name a price. Her mother would thank them for their offer, tell them she would get back to them later on, and shoo them away, and then Nepeta could get back to pretending things weren't so awful. 

As the market was drawing to a close, her father approached with a smile from ear to ear. "Nepeta, darling, come over here, there's someone who I would like to introduce you to." She followed along obediently- not that she had a choice, with how he grabbed her arm and pulled her along after. Mrs. Leijon fretted behind her about "not too fast, you'll make her scuff her shoes."

The man her father wanted her to meet was tall, broad-shouldered, and had an altogether quite princely countenance. He was also much older than her, with a thick white streak dominating his sharp hairline. He smiled, and it was so much like a grimace that Nepeta felt her stomach flip. 

"Hm. I came here to find a bride for my eldest, but your girl is such a charming little thing. I might keep her for myself," the gentleman mused to her father. His voice was like steel, and he kept his eyes fixed on Nepeta the whole time. 

"Now, we've already spoken numbers away from the womens' ears. If you're still amenable to my offer, I'd say we have an agreement." He had an accent Nepeta couldn't quite place, but it was strong enough that she guessed he lived very far away, and was only here for the market. From the lively shine in her father's eyes, she guessed that the man had made a very high offer, and that he was having no second thoughts on accepting it. 

She was going to be married to this strange, cold man and shipped off to another country, where she might never see her family again. The thought made her eyes prick with tiny budding tears, and she stared hopelessly at the ground crushed up around her expensive heels. "Smile, Nepeta, you're being rude to the general," her mother mewled with a quick pinch to the back of her arm. "He's being very generous towards our family, you should be a little more courteous." She quickly blinked away her tears and forced a smile, doing her best to at least make some fleeting eye contact with the man. 

The market ended, and Nepeta was silent during the ride home. Her mother told her the wedding would be that very month, and wouldn't stop giggling with one of their younger aunts about how handsome the general was. Nepeta listened quietly, and felt a sick sort of dread welling up inside of her. 

The short weeks leading up to the wedding were much like the ones before the market- lots of dressing up, lots of expensive outings, only this time there were no pictures. One of her cousins told her in a singsong voice that "Only your husband is allowed to see you dressed up like this now, until you have daughters of your own one day and you're helping them find a husband for themselves. You don't want to attract the attention of other men and make your husband jealous, after all."

One night, as she stared restlessly at the ceiling of her lonely bedroom, she noticed that she couldn't hear Meulin's quiet sobbing anymore. She didn't dare ask her father about it when he came home just after sunrise. She didn't dare ask him where he'd been. She didn't want to think about what might have happened. 

The wedding ceremony itself was extravagant, but short. Nepeta tried her very hardest not to cry, and judging by the excited clapping of everyone she had ever known, she was convincing enough. At the reception, her parents hugged her with more warmth than they had in her whole life, and kept telling her how much this meant for the family, and how happy she was going to be from now on. They were *proud* of her, and they knew she was going to be taken care of and treated like a princess with her wealthy new husband to provide for her. Nepeta smiled when she could, and bit her tongue to keep her sorrows private when she couldn't. 

Once the formalities were over, her parents and... husband, finalized the transaction, and she was whisked away. They sat in the back of a limousine together during the long drive to the airport. The tall man was silent, and didn't even spare her a glance or a word of comfort the whole way there. The plane ride went similarly, but at least she managed to sleep for most of that. 

For a few days once they got to his home, she was allowed to "settle in." She had her own bedroom, and her own maid, which was. Something. Having another person who wasn't even family dress her was uncomfortable, but she figured maybe one day when she had children to clean up after, she would be grateful for a maid. Her husband spoke to her briefly each morning at breakfast, and each night at dinner, mostly to give her instructions for how she was to go about her day. Briefly, she saw his oldest son, a leery low-life about the same age as Meulin. He had a younger son as well, who was apparently a recluse, as Nepeta never even caught a glimpse of him. Nepeta missed her family, but she wasn't as miserable as she had anticipated. 

After nearly a week, Nepeta was asked to follow her husband into his bedroom after dinner. From the tone of his voice, she would have wagered that it wasn't really a choice. She swallowed the lump in her throat and followed him into his dimly-lit bedroom. To keep her mind off what she knew must be coming, she focused on her extravagant surroundings. Even the bedroom was crawling with signs of the general's wealth. She was rudely brought back to the present far too soon by a too-gentle hand on her back. She wanted to shake it off and bark "don't touch me" at him, but his cold fingers on her spine were paralyzing. 

"You seem to be growing accustomed to my home," he hummed at her, in the same cold and emotionless tone he had always spoken in around her. "And, I hope, to my presence."

She couldn't speak. The words in her mind stuck like icy daggers in her throat. His hand moved up to her shoulder, to the strap of her silky, slip-like dress. "You're a lovely little thing, you know," his rough voice cooed as he nudged the strap away from her neck. "That's why I picked you. I could tell from across the whole market. So pretty..."

He pressed a frigid kiss to her exposed neck, and all her blood went cold. Her ear tickled horribly as he whispered, "so pretty, and so demure..."

Before she could think about what her actions meant, she had a heavy table lamp in her hand. It connected solidly with the man's jaw, and she heard a sick popping sort of crunch as it slid across his face and made contact with his nose. He gave a quick howl of pain, and then collapsed unconscious on the bed. Nepeta's hands shook, and the ice in her veins turned to a boil. She was- he would kill her, when he woke up she was certain that he would kill her. He'd bought and paid for her, at a very high price too, it was within his rights. She had to get out of here. 

But, there was nowhere for her to go. She didn't know this country, she didn't speak the common language here. What could she do? She couldn't go anywhere on her own. With quaking knees, she trudged into her own bedroom and curled up tightly on her bed. Sleep wouldn't come to her, not with her thoughts racing to what horrible fate might await her now. Many hours passed, maybe all night, she didn't know. The world outside her bedroom was completely silent, without even the soft shuffling of a maid to keep her company. Finally, she heard heavy footsteps creeping towards her. Soon after, low, mumbled swearing filled the halls. Her heart beat in her throat as she silently prayed, for her sister, for herself, even for her parents to forgive her foolishness. 

The doorknob slowly started to squeak. 

And then, it snapped back into place, followed by a heavy thud. Some shuffling sounds, as if a large object was being dragged across the floor, sounded through the door, and then it quietly opened to reveal a lithe young woman with spite in her eyes. 

"You are the other Leijon girl?" the woman asked with a heavy accent to her speech. Nepeta nodded, not sure what she meant by "other" but too tightly gripped by fear to ask. 

"Come. Your sister waits. We will leave here."

The woman grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of the room, ordering her to keep her eyes on the ceiling. The curiosity killed her and she glanced down as soon as the woman looked away, and she was horrified at the pools of blood soaking into expensive carpet. She snapped her eyes back up and tried to forget. 

Outside of the general's home, a discreet black car was waiting for them. The woman tossed Nepeta into the back, where a tired-looking Meulin wrapped her in a choking squeeze. "Nep, oh my god, I thought I would never see you again! I'm so sorry for letting this happen, are you okay?"

She nodded weakly, staring at the woman who now climbed into the driver's seat. Was she dreaming?

"We're leaving, okay Nep? We can't go home now, we'd be fugitives, so we're going far away. Don't worry, Damara has everything figured out, we're gonna be safe and we can go back to school and we never have to see those men again. Nep? Did you hear me?"

She turned away from the woman and finally met her sister's eyes, doing her best to absorb what she was being told. A quick nod, a wobbly smile, and then tears were finally spilling down her cheeks like they'd wanted to do for months. She pressed tighter into Meulin's hug and thanked her lucky stars that her fate was undecided.

**Author's Note:**

> i know she doesn't deserve this i am gomen


End file.
